Heights and Flights at Hogwarts
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Harry is flying - or isn't he? A meaningless drabble my muse decided to write. Only read if you don't have anything better to read. Don't complain - you have been warned!


**Heights and Flights at Hogwarts**

_A.N. Sorry, this is absolutely plot-less, but my muse insisting on writing it and I thought I might as well post it for you *rolling eyes at my muse*_

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Harry was flying – or wasn't he? '_Yes, I am flying, but I'm not on my broom_,' he mused. '_Do I have wings? It's so foggy; I can't even see the castle. I have to fly straight on. No, not a curve_,' he thought in exasperation as his body obviously disagreed with his wishes and turned left and right in a quick succession.

From somewhere far away he could hear voices. '_Oh no, that's Snape's voice. He wants me to hand over my essay, but I've only managed three pages yet_,' he thought terrified, anxiously backing up as he felt something in front of his face. '_Don't let me crash against the castle_,' he thought frantically, not even able to see his hands through the fog.

"Nearly forty," a soft voice penetrated his mind, and he tried to protest vehemently.

"No, only ten pages, not forty. I already wrote three pages," he spoke up, shivering violently as he once more felt something ice-cold touch his face. '_A bird_,' he mused, letting his hands run down his own body to feel if he had wings. '_Oh right, I have wings, but they're large, like that of a dragon. Maybe I'm a dragon Animagus_,' he thought, coughing a small wave of fire into the air, realising in disappointment that it didn't clear the fog either.

"Back... griffin... ten... no..." incoherent syllables penetrated his foggy mind, causing Harry to sigh. '_Oh right, I must be a griffin_.' Suddenly feeling very hot under the griffin's warm fur, he decided to fly a bit. '_Maybe the wind will cool me down a bit_,' he thought as he moved his heavy body, suddenly recognising the lake below him, only to realise that the wind was absolutely freezing. '_It's too cold_,' he noticed, feeling that his teeth were chattering from the cold air. He struggled to get down to the grounds, finally being able to lie down in exhaustion.

Lazily slapping his paw against a rat that was slowly walking over his forehead, he drifted off to sleep.

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During the next few days, Harry remained trapped in his griffin form. The fog didn't clear up either, and he was feeling too cold or too hot all the time. '_I can't see the castle. The others will miss me, or is everyone already on holidays?_' he mused, unable to figure out how he had ended up in that situation.

Sometimes, he heard voices, which he could make out as those of Professors McGonagall and Snape, but as much as he pleaded them to help him, they always kept talking about the number of pages he had to write for his homework. Unfortunately, the numbers didn't become less at all.

"I don't even have a quill," Harry whispered, terrified, trying to reach for the professors' hands to make them understand that he was in his griffin form, before he realised that he didn't have hands, only wings and his front paws, but they were too heavy to lift.

One day he was flying again and suddenly hit his head as he crashed into the castle's wall. Colourful stars appeared in front of his face, and his head exploded in pain. "So foggy," Harry mumbled as he felt a large animal scoop him up. "Nooo!" he shouted, panicking, and began to kick the other animal away with his front paws and hind paws, until he collapsed in exhaustion.

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Suddenly, he heard a soft voice, which was much nearer than the other voices had been. However, it still sounded like Snape's voice. "Harry, can you hear me?" it queried clearly.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled, miserably. "Can you help me tansfm back pease, sir? It's so foggy, and I nee my quill to wite the fody page essay fo you, and..."

"Harry, please wait a moment. Do you know who I am?"

"Pfessor Snape," Harry replied, continuing to slur the words.

"Yes Harry. I'm mind thinking to you, since you seem to be unable to hear us. You are very ill with a bad concussion. We're trying to help you, but you mustn't fight us. Don't do anything, just rest for once, okay?"

"No, too hot, no, too cold, flying makes me colder, but so foggy," Harry breathed in exhaustion.

"Try to sleep, Harry," the professor sneered. "You can't fly without your broom."

"Can cause I'm a giffn but can't tansfom back. Can you or Magonall help?"

"You're not a griffin, Harry. Typically Potter, assuming to be able to transform into a magical animal. You're in your human form. Now try to sleep. Professor McGonagall is here as well."

'_No, I'll fly for a while. I love flying over the lake. It's too hot here anyway_,' Harry mused as he took off again. Suddenly, he was able to see the castle, realising that an invisible force led him straight to an open window, through which he could see a tall figure that was completely dressed in black sitting on a chair. '_Snape_,' Harry thought as he landed on the bed next to the professor. '_The fog is gone; I can see_,' he realised as he cleared his throat to attract the professor's attention.

"Potter! Are you finally awake?" Snape queried with an expression of utmost relief on his face.

"Hmm?" Harry asked. "I've been awake, but you told me to sleep when you penetrated my mind. Am I back to my human form?"

"Your human form?" the professor asked in concern, quickly placing the back of his cold hand on Harry's forehead. "You are delirious, Potter. You're very ill with a bad concussion and a fever of more than forty degrees, and you've spent the whole winter holidays here in the hospital wing. I'm glad that your condition seems to slowly stabilize, because the students are going to come back the day after tomorrow and neither Professor McGonagall nor I will be able to spend as much time with you as we did over Christmas."

"I'm so sorry," Harry mumbled wearily. "Forty? I thought that was the number of pages I had to write for my Potions essay."

"No, you don't have to do any school work for at least another week."

"What happened?"

"Don't you remember anything?"

"No."

"A Slytherin seventh year student pushed you down the huge staircase on the first day of the holidays. He has been expelled and been taken to Azkaban."

"Oh," Harry said, noticing that his head hurt terribly.

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Two days later, Madam Pomfrey returned to Hogwarts and grudgingly released Harry in time for the Welcoming Feast, instructing him not to use any magic for a week and come to her for a check-up the next day. '_Thank God everything is back to normal_,' Harry sighed in relief as he slowly descended the stairs to the Great Hall, happily taking his seat between Hermione and Ron.

"Hi Harry, did you have nice holidays?" Ron queried, stuffing his face with Shepherd's pie.

"Yes, I spent a lot of time flying," Harry replied dryly, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

**The End**

_I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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